The Plastic Grocery Bag Under my Bed

Little Blue Notebook with a Rainbow on the Cover

On our one-month anniversary I gave you a notebook. It

was small and blue, with a rainbow on the cover. If I’m

being completely honest it was regifted, it had been sitting

in my desk untouched since my birthday. We passed that

notebook back and forward for years, writing each other

little notes and letters. The ones you wrote always made

me cry. It made it hard for me to write back. Hard to be

honest and vulnerable, the way you always were. I should

have known things were ending when seven months passed

without getting the notebook back.

Gray Sweatshirt — the first one you gave away

Two months after we started dating, I visited your house

for the first time. I was afraid of your parents. I wanted to

impress them, no matter how much you said you didn’t care

what they thought. You invited your whole neighborhood

over that night. To make things easier for me I guess. Other

kids that I had known since second grade, kids that you

grew up with. It was a warm afternoon—early June—so we

spent it in your pool, swimming and getting to know each

other. It got cold around sunset, the sky flooded with pink

and yellow. I lied and said I was warm, you didn’t believe

me. You handed me your sweatshirt, gray and way too big

for either of us. It smelled like you. I didn’t take it off for a

week.

Fredrick — the stuffed white bear you made me

Our first Christmas together you gave me two gifts: a coat

lined with mushroom fabric, and a handmade stuffed bear.

I named him Fredrick. I took Fredrick everywhere with me,

everytime I went away, every night I stayed at your house.

He was a mini you, a tactile object for when you had to

leave. Over time his fur started to matte and turn gray, I

tried to wash him by hand, afraid that the machine was

too aggressive, some of the stains came out. Most of them

never faded.

Long, Silver, Spiral Earrings

Our second Christmas together I gave you a pair of earrings.

They were long thread-throughs, you had picked

them out months before. It was always hard for me to know

what to get you, you didn’t like the attention that came with

a gift. You shrugged off the earrings with a small nod, but

I knew you liked them. I knew you liked them because you

wore them. You liked that they made you feel feminine,

something you rarely cared for. I liked the way they framed

your face.

Green and Pink Off-Brand Lego Flowers

On Valentine’s Day last year, we couldn’t go out. You had

classes all day and I had rehearsal all night. You surprised

me with lunch in my dorm, microwave pizza, and five sets

of off-brand lego flowers. We spent the one hour we had

together building the legos as we ate, talking for the first

time in weeks. In hindsight I wish I had skipped rehearsal

and made the time to go out with you.

Moss Agate Promise Ring — size 5.5

I gave you the ring a week and a half before I broke things

off. It was small and silver, a moss agate stone in the middle.

You loved it, picking it out months before. I think it was a

last-ditch effort to try and salvage what was left of our relationship.

You asked me if I was sure when I gave it to you,

we had been fighting for the past month. We had fought

that morning. I wasn’t sure. I gave it to you anyway.

Three Years Worth of Photos — holes from push pins in each corner

The night I ended it, I went down to my room and ripped

the photos off the wall. One by one I dropped them on the

floor. Almost three years of memories thrown away. I know

I’m the reason things ended. I know that if you had it your

way we would have kept trying, kept fighting over the same

petty things every three days. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I wish I could say I wasn’t angry, after all you never

did anything wrong. But I am. I can’t help but think of the

time lost, the late nights we spent together. You texted me

as I slipped the plastic grocery bag under my bed. I never

answered.